Since o’er thy footstool here below

Such radiant gems are strewn,

O, what magnificence must glow,

Great God, about thy throne!

So brilliant here these drops of light—

There the full ocean rolls, how bright!

2 If night’s blue curtain of the sky—

With thousand stars inwrought,

Hung like a royal canopy

With glittering diamonds fraught—

Be, Lord, thy temple’s outer vail,

What splendor at the shrine must dwell!

3 The dazzling sun at noonday hour—

Forth from his flaming vase

Flinging o’er earth the golden shower

Till vale and mountain blaze—

But shows, Lord, one beam of thine;

What, then, the day where thou dost shine!

4 O, how shall these dim eyes endure

That noon of living rays!

Or how our spirits, so impure,

Upon thy glory gaze!

Anoint, Lord, anoint our sight,

And fit us for that world of light.